Fan
UMM...
As far as Tuesdays went, Eleanor figured it'd be just like any other.
Well, that is except for the part of creeping at five o'clock in the morning at her dream man's place, only to turn tail and run as fast as her stubby legs could carry her when he started asking questions. Upon trying to merge with the ground to make a faster escape, Eleanor was painfully aware of the root of all this: she should have taken P.E. a bit more seriously, instead of routinely breaking into the school doctor's office to stamp her exemptions (that at one point have gotten so much past the point of ridiculous that her P.E. teacher, upon noticing her coming his way, would just roll his eyes, shake his head and walk the other way, which, in hindsight, was a good thing anyway, because she'd run out of deadly diseases and conditions to mention).
He should also consider having a smaller front yard.
Since her plans of meeting Ulrich Sloane, seducing him with her fabulous grandma glasses, hand-me-downs (that were two sizes too big) and bird's nest hair and, ultimately, having him impregnate her in less that 19 seconds and thus creating an alien (her)- god (him) connection failed, Eleanor resigned herself to calmly explore the neighborhood until she had to return to her own small town. She knew her coming back meant she'd have to own up to her visit online, since she had basically and, quite intelligently, told the Ulrich Sloane fandoms she administered (which were all ) that she'd go and try to see him up close. Maybe even marry him and carry his children.
The reactions had been better than she expected.
Most people seemed genuinely happy that a lowly human would dare poke the lair of a modern day gladiator.
She couldn't deny, of course, that their curiosity was somewhat bloodthirsty. The majority of the Sloaners had predicted her untimely death.
Eleanor was only too glad to let them down.
As she waited for the light to turn green, Eleanor had a sneaking suspicion that she'd gotten away much too easily, but she shrugged and figured not to bite the hand that fed her.
The last thing she wanted was for anyone to notice her. Eleanor was happy to be ignored and left alone to take back every part of Ulrich Sloane she could from this short visit.
Eleanor was the master of human interaction via computer. She wasn't a fan of the whole face-to-face thing. There were no tutorials about that one. No beeps to, well, beep , when she made the wrong move. No “Cancel” button. No “Quit” or “Esc” key.
Which was what she wished for as she took notice of six police cars with flashing lights, that were suddenly surrounding her, complete with screaming policemen that commanded her, in just as many words, to basically get on the ground and stay down or die.
Gee.
So many options.
Eleanor fought an eye roll and got down on the ground. She tried not to gag as she felt gum spread on her right thigh. Stinkin' litterers.
Yep.
Eleanor Prickett had just been arrested.
Well, that is except for the part of creeping at five o'clock in the morning at her dream man's place, only to turn tail and run as fast as her stubby legs could carry her when he started asking questions. Upon trying to merge with the ground to make a faster escape, Eleanor was painfully aware of the root of all this: she should have taken P.E. a bit more seriously, instead of routinely breaking into the school doctor's office to stamp her exemptions (that at one point have gotten so much past the point of ridiculous that her P.E. teacher, upon noticing her coming his way, would just roll his eyes, shake his head and walk the other way, which, in hindsight, was a good thing anyway, because she'd run out of deadly diseases and conditions to mention).
He should also consider having a smaller front yard.
Since her plans of meeting Ulrich Sloane, seducing him with her fabulous grandma glasses, hand-me-downs (that were two sizes too big) and bird's nest hair and, ultimately, having him impregnate her in less that 19 seconds and thus creating an alien (her)- god (him) connection failed, Eleanor resigned herself to calmly explore the neighborhood until she had to return to her own small town. She knew her coming back meant she'd have to own up to her visit online, since she had basically and, quite intelligently, told the Ulrich Sloane fandoms she administered (which were all ) that she'd go and try to see him up close. Maybe even marry him and carry his children.
The reactions had been better than she expected.
Most people seemed genuinely happy that a lowly human would dare poke the lair of a modern day gladiator.
She couldn't deny, of course, that their curiosity was somewhat bloodthirsty. The majority of the Sloaners had predicted her untimely death.
Eleanor was only too glad to let them down.
As she waited for the light to turn green, Eleanor had a sneaking suspicion that she'd gotten away much too easily, but she shrugged and figured not to bite the hand that fed her.
The last thing she wanted was for anyone to notice her. Eleanor was happy to be ignored and left alone to take back every part of Ulrich Sloane she could from this short visit.
Eleanor was the master of human interaction via computer. She wasn't a fan of the whole face-to-face thing. There were no tutorials about that one. No beeps to, well, beep , when she made the wrong move. No “Cancel” button. No “Quit” or “Esc” key.
Which was what she wished for as she took notice of six police cars with flashing lights, that were suddenly surrounding her, complete with screaming policemen that commanded her, in just as many words, to basically get on the ground and stay down or die.
Gee.
So many options.
Eleanor fought an eye roll and got down on the ground. She tried not to gag as she felt gum spread on her right thigh. Stinkin' litterers.
Yep.
Eleanor Prickett had just been arrested.